


Strong Anthropic Principle

by asinineAbbreviations



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, Half-Life, The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Corpse Desecration, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Misgendering, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Not Beta Read, most of the tags are just alluded to i just dont want people to think i didnt tag anything, the misgendering isnt on purpose cybertronians literally dont have the concept of gender, this isn't a dark fic it's just set in a battlefield after everyone died
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26012176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asinineAbbreviations/pseuds/asinineAbbreviations
Summary: Gordon didn't expect to wake up at all, let alone to four Cybertronians trying to steal his fuel pump.---Almost titled transformers but the AI is self aware. No TF knowledge is really needed, it's just the hlvrai cast but robots.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 42





	Strong Anthropic Principle

**Author's Note:**

> There are references to Transformers lore, but nothing you wouldn't get w/o context. I shall provide a little glossary at the end tho jic. All you really need to know is there's been a long-ass war going on and all the science team are on the same side. also sorry for using tf body terminology 😔 its the brainrot. if you have read tf this is basically just the first scavengers issue but hlvrai

Gordon awoke to the strange yet unmistakable feeling of someone messing around with his insides. His optics flickered on and with a cry he shot his leg out, attempting to kick his assailant away. Everything was fuzzy, just blobs of colour. He felt whatever grip the person had let go as his - fuel pump? Yeah, it was his fuel pump - was dropped on his lap.

"Woah! Fuckin uh, watch out dude."

"A zombie! Quick, let's torch him."

"Now now, we shouldn't be hasty! A zombie could have many practical uses!"

"I don- don't think he's a zombie, guys - he's just alive."

Hitting his head a little and looking back up, he could see a dark blue blur was standing in front of him. Gordon was confused for a moment, then jumped a little as he realised why everything looked so strange. Quickly he grasped at his goggles and tugged them down to frame his eyes. Thankfully they hadn't broken when he landed or during the time he was unconscious, and after shuttering his optics a few times, he looked up to see the people before him. 

The blue blur was a large Cybertronian, fingers stained pink, no obvious kibble on their body. Their visor, while glowing faintly red, seemed like a shadow cast on their face, which was sporting a very surprised expression. Just behind and to the side were three others, all with a familiar purple badge adorning their body. There was a short bot who seemed to be an empurata victim - a single bright green eye and claws were visible, even against the nondescript steel and gunmetal paint job he had. Judging by the wheels and pipe-like features, he was likely a dune buggy. Next to him was a tall baby blue seeker - wait, no, a triple-changer? Gordon had never seen one before, but there were unmistakably the wheels of a racing car on his shoulders, and most seekers he'd met were too vain to add stuff like that to themselves. Finally, there was a slightly taller jet, sunshine yellow, servos clutched together with a nervous expression visible even with a facemask, who peered down at Gordon.

There was a moment of silence. Then Gordon's vocaliser reset.

"What the fuck were you doing to me?!" He yelled. The 'con in front of him stared.

"Uh - calm down please? Pretty please? Don't yell," they said, leaning a bit closer. Gordon shied away, clutching at his exposed fuel pump.

"Why were you fucking - fucking vivisecting me?"

"W-well, we, uh, we thought you were - we didn't think you were still alive," the yellow one said.

"You - you found me on my back and just  _ assumed _ I was dead?" Gordon asked incredulously.

"No, you dumbass," the triple-changer spat. "We thought you were dead because everyone else is!"

Gordon was about to respond, but shut up as he processed those words. He turned his head from side to side. It seemed like only moments ago in his memory that Clemency was filled with thousands of Autobots and Decepticons, fighting in a brutal and confusing battle. Now, however, there was no movement. Hundreds of corpses littered the landscape. Crashed ships, bots stuck half transformed before being put down, minibots and seekers and racecars.

"..Huh," he mumbled. Turning back, he could see the dark blue bot lean down.

"Hey, can I - can I keep this fuckin. uh. fuel pump?"

"N - no? I kinda need it to pump my fuel, dude."

The bot looked at him with a strange expression on their face, then grinned. "Sure. You know what bro? You're alright."

Gordon grinned back nervously. "Thanks? I'm Gordon."

The short green bot stepped forward. "Hello, Gordon! My name is Coomer, and this is my Conjunx Endura Bubby." He gestured to the triple-changer standing next to him who sneered a little.

"Bubby?" Gordon said. "That's not a real name."

"Neither is Gordon," Bubby snapped. He looked like he was about half a second away from pulling a blaster out ending what the other bot had started, so Gordon didn't say anything. He just looked towards the jet.

"My name is Tommy," the jet smiled. "And they're," he pointed over at the dark blue bot who had wandered over to another corpse, licking their digits, "Benrey. It's nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too Tommy," Gordon said. "Now uh. Can someone help me put this back in?" He held up the fuel pump. Tommy came a little closer.

"I can help! I was the one who removed - took out your payload!"

Gordon blanched, then looked down at his chest. With it being open, he could see his spark casing - and the light blue glow that was cast out of it - and an empty space where the warhead that was installed in his body should've been. Shocked, he glanced back up at Tommy.

"How - How did you get it out?! I thought those things were designed to never be able to be uninstalled - y'know, that kind of being the point and all."

Tommy just smiled wider. "I'm - I was a scientist before the war. I made the perfect turbofox!"

Once again, Gordon could only find himself numbly nodding in agreement. The jet gently pried his fuel pump out of his servos, and began to gently reattach it and close up his chest. After finishing, he held a servo out which Gordon graciously accepted, pulling the k-class to his pedes. Brushing himself off - apparently he'd been out long enough for dust to settle, and he didn't want to think about how many flakes might be from the nasty disintegration guns he knew the upper science division had wanted to 'test out' in this battle - he looked around again. Benrey was poking and moving a body around, and Coomer and Bubby were having a hushed discussion near the corpse of an autobot shuttle.

"So, are you guys scavengers or something?" Gordon asked. Tommy nodded.

"Well, we're - we're  _ expropriation specialists _ . Sorry that Benrey tried to uh, tried to take your fuel pump! They're usually the one who gets - extracts the energon from the bodies and they -" his vocaliser dropped into a whisper. " - They might've had some energon from a monstercon who overdosed on speed circuits."

Following the bot with his eyes, Gordon could see what Tommy was talking about. Benrey seemed a little twitchy, and dug his fingers into a minicon's chest to try and rip something out. Pink stained his fingers. "So, he wouldn't do that if he wasn't - y'know - high?"

"Oh, no Mr. Gordon! They would've just made sure you were dead first!"

"Goooood to know, I guess."

Tommy looked back and forth between them, before saying, "Oh and, uh, Benrey's not a he! They're - they use they/them!"

Gordon squinted. "Not - a him? Alright. But, is it normal for him - er, them, sorry - is it normal for them to just? Rip into someone!"

"Yep!"

That did not relieve Gordon of his trepidation. The group seemed nice enough - well, Tommy and Coomer seemed alright, Benrey and Bubby looked like they'd kill him - but. They were all Decepticons. And even being on the same side, you always had to be suspicious of other ‘cons. If even high command couldn’t rely on each other (though the whole Starscream / Megatron situation always confused Gordon. Just kill him, dude) then the lower ranks who were essentially forced to squabble with each other for guns and energon were extremely untrustworthy. Then again, Tommy  _ had  _ saved Gordon’s life, and Benrey had given him back his fuel pump (even if they were the one who removed it in the first place), and Coomer looked strong enough to hold his conjunx back, so. What the hell.

A “Hello, Gordon!” snapped him out of his reverie. Gordon turned and saw Coomer waving cheerfully at him, one claw in the air, the other holding Bubby’s servo. “We’re going to burn some bodies!”

“That’s nice,” Gordon said absentmindedly. Then Coomer’s words caught up to him. “Wait, WHAT-”

After a bit of explaining that  _ no,  _ they weren’t burning the corpses for fun, Clemency’s sun was about to set and by the frostbite the group had seen earlier it would get  _ quite  _ cold, Gordon helped gather up particularly fuel-soaked bits. He suppressed a shiver seeing bits of K-cons littered across the ground, uncomfortably realising that would’ve been  _ him  _ if - 

“Are you stealing? Huh?”

Gordon blinked, and looked up. Benrey was standing in front of him, crossing their arms, and peering down as though they’d just caught him committing a crime. 

“Who - who would I be stealing  _ from _ , dude? All these bots are dead. I don’t think they’re gonna be using these anytime soon,” he said, waving a disembodied arm at the other bot. “Besides, Coomer asked me to do it - are you gonna go over to him and accuse him of stealing?”

Benrey’s optics shuttered, and they looked towards where Coomer was lifting a seeker with one arm above his head. Bubby looked particularly impressed. Then back to Gordon, same blank expression on their face.

“Coomer, uh, he’s got. Mads permission. Get-out-of-jail-free card handed right to him by, by Megaman himself.”

Gordon found it difficult to repress an ex-vent at that, moving one servo to his face. Benrey grinned on hearing it.

“Megaman? If the DJD heard you say that, they’d have your head,” Gordon giggled.

“Nah. I’m not - who’s afraid of the DJD?”

“I mean, aside from every sensible Decepticon  _ and  _ Autobot this side of Betelgeuse, people who call old bucket-head names.”

“L’il uh. Fuckin robo-chicken hat having-ass.”

Benrey’s smile grew wider as Gordon let out a genuine peal of laughter. This dude wasn’t as annoying as he first guessed, turned out. At least, they were plenty funny when they weren’t servo-deep in your intake line.

“So, uh, since you don’t have any. Permission. To, collect these,” they smacked their derma, “these robo bits, I’m going to have to follow you.”

“Follow me?” Gordon chuckled. “Wh - where do you think I’m going?”

“Gonna have to keep an eye on you. Make sure you’re not up to any not good.”

“Not up to any not - wait, wait, do you - do you want me to steal, or?”

Benrey shook their head, but belied their amusement. “See? You’re already getting, getting criminal tendencies. Shit happens too quick. Gonna have to send you to, fuckin uh. Garrus-4.”

Sifting through more body parts, Gordon clicked his glossa. “Garrus-4? Isn’t that,” he popped his head back up to get a look at Benrey, “didn’t that place get destroyed? Like about two million years ago?”

“Nah, I got it all up and running again. Just for body-snatchers.”

“Pfft. Well, if you’re going to follow me, could you at least make yourself useful and get some supplies?”

“Sure.” Benrey turned to the nearest corpse - a minicon that looked like it turned into a scooter - and without warning drove their digits into its chest-plates. Gordon looked on, feeling a mix of horrified and impressed. Squirming a bit, the ‘con gripped something, and just as quickly as they’d penetrated, pulled out what looked to be the body’s spark casing. The light inside was gone, extinguished an age ago, but Gordon couldn’t help but feel a bit voyeuristic seeing it. Obviously Benrey didn’t share these reservations with him, looking at it with a seemingly critical eye. They turned lazily to Gordon to show off their prize.

“I’m the best at Operation.”

Gordon smiled, nearly unable to keep his laughter in. “Damn you’re - you’re really going ham, huh?”

Benrey let out a deafening cackle, which prompted Gordon to join in too, wheezing. He could faintly hear Bubby yelling at them to ‘get a room’, but honestly the triple-changer didn’t bother him. Actually having fun for the first time in… well, however long he was out combined with the whole “fighting in a four million year war” thing was refreshing.

Finishing gathering ‘fuel’ for the fire, the two ‘cons headed back to where the others were. Coomer and Bubby had managed to pile a reasonably sized pyre with mainly Autobot bits, and the one-eyed bot looked delighted as Gordon dumped the parts he and Benrey’d gotten onto the bloody mass. 

“Aha! Now we’re all ready for a camp-fire!” He exclaimed, clapping his claws together. “Bubby, dear, if you’d do the honours?”

“Of course,” the triple-changer grinned. Bubby held out his arm near the fire, gesturing with his other one to move back, and snapped his digits. Instantly, his servo caught aflame. A bright blue fire, almost white at the centre, began slowly crawling up his arm. Gordon yelped, and went to move forward, before being stopped by Tommy grabbing on his shoulder.

“Don’t - don’t worry, Mr. Gordon!” He said. “Bubby is safe! He’s uninflammable!” 

Gordon just watched in muted horror as Bubby, not reacting to the fire as a normal bot should, leant down and wafted his hand over the mound. The energon bubbling out of the corpses caught alight, and soon a fire was blazing, the energon changing the colour from a harsh blue to a more magenta and red tone. It, thankfully, wasn’t so hot that Gordon thought his paint was going to peel. Bubby nonchalantly moved back and swiftly whipped his arm to the side, extinguishing the flames on his plates. He shot a grin at the K-class, dentae sharpened for some reason.

“You can thank me now.”

“Are -” Gordon stammered, “Are you a point one percenter?”

Bubby stiffened at this, and his grin slid into a snarl. “It’s not any of your business,” he snapped, moving away and sitting next to the fire. Coomer looked at Gordon with an unidentifiable expression - the dude didn’t have a face, it was difficult to tell - before following after his conjunx and reclining next to him. Tommy frowned.

“That was - that was a personal thing to ask, Mr. Gordon!”

“Yeah, what’re you being so, uh, rude for? Rude-on?”

“I was just wondering!” Gordon said, throwing his servos in the air. “Setting shit on fire isn’t something just any bot can do! That was cool!”

Bubby perked up a little at that. “That’s right. I’m pretty fucking cool, Gordon.”

“Yeah - I didn’t mean to make you upset if it’s a touchy subject.”

“Nah.” Well, he certainly seemed to change his airs when a compliment was thrown his way. Gordon decided to note that away for later use.

He and the other two made their way round the campfire, him sitting in-between Benrey and Coomer, with Tommy on Benrey’s other side near Bubby. 

“So… You guys are scavengers, right?”

“Yes!” Coomer exclaimed. “I was originally trying to make my way back to my squad when I ran into Bubby here,” he lightly tapped the triple-changer on the shoulder yet still made a loud clanking noise that had Gordon wince in solidarity, “and we decided Fuck The War!”

“You… deserted?” Gordon asked quizzically. “And you still haven’t gotten out of Cybertronian space?”

“Feh! I’m not afraid of those DJD losers,” Bubby said. “I could beat them up any time!”

“Bubby. Their leader can  _ literally  _ talk you to death.”

“So?”

Gordon decided  _ not  _ to pursue that line of arguing, and instead looked back to the fire, which was burning nicely. It was certainly a flaming pile of corpses. A wingtip appeared to twitch. Probably just the fire affecting neural optic lines.

“Besides,” Tommy piped up. “It’s not like it - It’s not like we’d get in trouble anymore, anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because the war’s over.”

“Heh.”

**Wait** .

“What?!” Gordon yelled, looking at Tommy incredulously. “You mean - our war? The four million year long war? That thing’s over?”

“Why yes it is!” Coomer said happily. His optic squinted in some kind of smiling gesture. “We received a message saying ‘The war is over. Come home.’”

“W- How? The war’s always been on,” Gordon said, glancing down at his servos, then back up again. It didn’t sound like they were messing with him. Great. You get knocked out for an indeterminate amount of time and suddenly the war that your whole society has based itself around for the past couple million years has ended. “So… who won then?”

The other four shared a look.

“Well,” Coomer started.

“We’re not quite sure,” Bubby continued.

“We’re guessing that the - the Autobots probably won,” Tommy said.

“Y’know. Just because,” Benrey finished.

Gordon scratched his helm. “That’s - that’s just weird to think about, honestly.”

“You’re telling us,” Bubby said.

“So…” Gordon paused. “What do we do now? I mean, if the Autobots  _ did  _ win, then we can’t exactly return to Cybertron, and if  _ we  _ won, then we couldn’t return to Cybertron either since. Probably all of us are considered deserters?”

“I’m not,” Benrey grinned, showing off sharp dentae. Primus, what was with this group and pointy objects. “I followed all the uh, Autobot code.”

“We’re uh, we’re Decepticons, Benrey!” Tommy helpfully said. Benrey’s optics shuttered slowly.

“Yeah that’s what I said. All the Deceptibot code.”

Gordon ex-vented and leant back a little, looking up at the stars. The only lights for miles were the groups’ optics and the fire, so the sky was clear and the galaxy - Gordon couldn’t remember the name - was beautiful. You never got a view like that back on Cybertron, even  _ before  _ it was a wrecked hellscape. In all honesty, the K-con didn’t know the last time he was this stress-free. Before the war, before the clampdown and all the political bullshit that came with it, Gordon didn’t exactly  _ enjoy  _ his life. Sure, he was scientific class, which meant he got more perks than others, but a) perpetuating a classist system didn’t exactly appeal to him, and b) it wasn’t like having senators with their own agendas breathing down his neck all the time was conducive to a research environment. He - He didn’t want to go back. Even if things had changed, that society hadn’t magically reverted back to the way it was with the Autobots in charge, it was freeing to not be tied to a class or an ideology or a side in a war. He was a free man now!

“What do you guys want to do? Like, in general?” Gordon asked, his spark light. “I mean - without the war, and not having to go back to Cybertron, we can basically do whatever we want, right?”

“Yes! And I don’t mind,” Coomer smiled. “Although I certainly wouldn’t mind getting back into the good old art of pugilism. Pugilism  is a  [ combat sport ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Combat_sport) in which two people, usually wearing  [ protective gloves ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boxing_glove) , throw  [ punches ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Punch_\(combat\)) at each other for a predetermined amount of time in a  [ boxing ring ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boxing_ring) .  [ Amateur boxing ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amateur_boxing) is both a-”

“I don’t really care,” Bubby cut off, laying a servo on his conjunx’s shoulder as he kept going on. “My one wish was to go to space, and it’s not exactly like that’s difficult.” He looked tenderly down at Coomer. Gordon had only known them all for a few cycles, but that expression seemed out of place on the triple-changer. “I honestly just want to stay with this old lump.”

“- bo xers would wind leather thongs around their hands in order to protect them. There were no rounds and boxers fought until one of them acknowledged - Hello, Gordon!” 

Coomer jolted, as if forcefully dragged out of a trance, then turned and placed his claw atop Bubby. “Those are very kind words, professor!”

Bubby immediately grimaced. “Doctor.”

“Professor!”

“Doctor!”

“Professor!”

As they went on, Gordon raised his optical ridge at Tommy. The yellow jet smiled. “Oh, they do this all the time, Mr. Gordon! You, er - you get used to it.”

“I hope so,” Gordon said. “What do you want to do?”

“I - I’m trying to find my friend Darnold. I left Sunkist with him, and they’re - they’re both really important to me.”

“Whooo’s Sunkist?”

“My turbofox! I mentioned her before, she’s, she’s the most perfect turbofox to ever exist!”

“You -” Gordon blinked. “You named your turbofox after an engex brand?”

“Technically the engex is named after Sunkist,” Tommy said. “Darnold - he’s the one who actually made the drink! I helped him a little, and when he was ready to name it, he was - he said ‘The perfect dog has the perfect name!’ It was pretty, pretty sweet of him to do that.”

“Wow. That’s impressive - I’d like to meet this guy, sounds like he knows how to party. Sunkist has honestly been my poison of choice since I first had it. Then again, it’s not like you get many chances to get ahold of engex nowadays.”

“Of course you’d, uh. Of course you’d gravitate to the mind-altering substances,” Benrey said. “That’s another tally on your. List of crimes.”

“Weren’t you high off of circuit boosters just earlier?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Benrey lied. “I’m clean - as clean as a whistle. Lemon bleach wipes flavoured. Good for getting energon out.”

“I’ll… take your word for it?” Gordon said. “Oh yeah, what do you want to do Benrey?”

Benrey shrugged. “Meh. Play games. Hang out with my bros. Edit Autopedia.”

“Editing Autopedia? The free online encyclopedia that any Cybertronian can edit?” Coomer chimed. He and his conjunx had apparently finished their nominative argument.

Benrey shot a finger gun. “That’s the one. On, uh, Gordo’s page rn.”

They said ‘rn’ as individual letters. “Wait, I don’t - I don’t have an entry do I?”

“Of course you do Gordon! Everyone has their own page! How else are you supposed to tell if they’re a credible threat?”

Gordon was highly doubtful of that, but decided not to question the buggy. “If you’re on - if you’re on my Autopedia article, what are you doing to it?”

“I said uh. You died.”

Gordon let out a laugh. “I - it would’ve probably said I was dead anyway, why would you say I died?  _ How  _ did you say I died?”

“Got monked in  _ All Sparkeaters Go To Heaven 2 _ .”

The K-con wheezed. “You’re really - you’re really misinforming the masses here. What if some, what if someone needed to see the synopsis for  _ All Sparkeaters Go To Heaven 2  _ and just see at the end ‘Gordon of Lower Petrohex dies’?”

“Then they’d be seeing the fuckin truth bro.”

“Hey Benrey! Could you edit my article to say ‘The perfect triple-changer’?” Bubby called. Benrey gave a lazy thumbs-up in confirmation. Managing to stop laughing - his vents were really working overtime - Gordon turned back to Coomer, who was poking at the fire with a long rod he seemed to have found.

“Do - do you guys have a ship?”

“We do!” Coomer replied happily. “The WAP!”

“The - what?”

“Wet-ass pussy bro,” Benrey said. That  _ almost  _ set Gordon off again, but mentions of organic ‘bits’ managed to push it back down.

Tommy frowned a little, wings drooping. “That’s not what it’s called, Benrey! It’s the, Weak Anthropic Principle!”

“I feel like my name for it’s better.” 

“Well, since I’m stuck here without a ship… Do you guys mind if I came along with you? Being stranded on an abandoned planet surrounded by corpses isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

“It’s probably  _ someone’s  _ idea of a good time,” Bubby said.

“We’d be happy to have you aboard, Gordon!” Coomer said happily, bringing one of his claws up in what seemed to be an approximation of a thumbs-up.

Gordon smiled. “I’d love to join you.”

_ The Weak Anthropic Principle, huh? _ Gordon couldn’t see anything weak about it as all as he observed the ‘cons around the campfire shout and argue with each other. It’d been a long time, but - he actually felt at home, amongst these outcasts and weirdos. Maybe he’d actually be able to enjoy himself again. The future was clear of war, though maybe still with some ominous clouds of possible torture and death (Gordon highly doubted the death of Megatron himself could stop the DJD), and for the first time in his life Gordon was looking forward to seeing what it held.

**Author's Note:**

> i love making niche content that about 4 people at most will enjoy  
> conjunx endura - cyb equiv of spouse  
> djd - decepticon justice division. decepticon sect who hunt down rogue cons and kill them in normally brutal fashion  
> k-con - decepticon reformatted to basically be turned into a living bomb. this did not happen willingly to gordon  
> empurata - ritualistic punishment in which head and hands are removed and replaced with a single eye and claws. if u've seen shockwave, big purple titty decepticon with a yellow eyes, thats basically what it is  
> triple-changer - seems. kind of obvious. two vehicle modes.  
> turbofox - its a dog  
> engex and circuit boosters - basically alcohol and speed.  
> garrus-4 - this is technically made up shfggd. theres these sets of prisons called garrus-x but afaik there's no mention of a garrus-4 so. mine now.


End file.
